Forbidden - Complete

Awwwwwww! That's soooooo amazing!!!!!

Thanks

I FUCKING LOVE THEM!!

Thanks

I really do love this, Low!

Brilliant.

Why is Rún exacting revenge on Sean? What did he do to her? Or will we find that out?

It isn't him she's exacting revenge on, it's her husband and family.

Oh right, sorry, I got a bit 'cause at one point it said something about her not wanting him to feel the hatred in her. Just figured that was hatred of him, but it wasn't?

Where was that? At the start of C5? That was vice versa, her fearing that he'd hate her, for leaving

Oh right, I must have read it a bit quickly. Sorry. Any idea when the next part will be out?

Lowri, i hav only jus started reading this but gota rush off now, i promise 2 carry on as soon as i get a minute 2 myself. Lol.

I like wot iv read so far tho so i will definately b bk 2 get up2 date.

Howz fingz chicken? XXXX

I'm not sure, Danny. Whenever I find the time to write, I'm rather busy with coursework currently.

Thanks, Bil. Np, read it whenever you have time. I'm just glad you are and that you like what you've read so far. I'm good, you?

As the years wore on, Rún became a master of deception. The lies soon became her life. Wearing the mask of a dutiful wife within Eastside, wearing another mask when with Sean. A mask of indifference. On and on, she told herself that this was her revenge, an outlet for her hatred, nothing more. And so the mask, discarded only once, was placed again over her face and her very being, hiding what was too dangerous to admit. They both knew that what they had couldn't be more. And so they lied, both to themselves and to the other, claiming that it was enough, that it'd have to be. Pretending.

That mask never slipped. Even when certain words spoken by her husband gave her a foolish, reckless idea for a further revenge. Even after she had acted upon that idea, and their child was growing within her. A child of hate, she'd tell herself, distancing. More years passed, and she watched in passivity as their son grew, telling herself that any spark of pride and joy she'd feel was for having succeeded in hiding a very son of the Westside Alliance deep within the heart of Eastside.

She never told Sean they'd had a son. After all, she told herself, it didn't really concern him. The boy wasn't his, really; he was just a necessary part of her revenge. He didn't need to know. And she didn't know how he'd react, whether he'd see things as she did. She suspected not. For those months, she'd claimed she was too busy, too watched, to risk slipping out to see him. Afterwards, life had gone on as before. She was so used to the deceptions by then that it was easy. Just a few more.

Still on and on the years passed, until it had been 12 of them since the boy's birth. Apart from the obvious passage of time, not much changed. Her life continued as it always had and always would. The same old routine, not a glimpse that anything would ever alter.

Fiorr Manor, Eastside, 2470

It had been nearly 2 months now since Rún had last seen Sean. Every time she'd snuck out to see him, it was to return early and disappointed, after having found the apartment empty. It wasn't that rare an occurance. Every so often, a WA operation would take him out of the city for weeks or months. But she couldn't quite shake away the dread that this time things were different.

She was glad when the sound of a phone broke through her thoughts. Recognising the tone, she snapped it up before it'd attract any attention. It was the one she'd use to contact the WA.

"Hello?"

She wouldn't say more until she was certain.

"Hello."

She breathed again upon recognising the voice of Anya, her WA mentor for the last 19 years.

"Anya? What is it? I haven't missed any payments, I'm sure of that."

She could almost taste the other woman's hesitation.

"Anya?" she asked again.

"Rún.............don't take this as your mentor talking, now. Take it as a friend....."

A chill ran down her spine.

"What's happened?"

"It's Sean.........."

She knew it would be.

"What's happened?" she asked again. Forcing down that same dread which had followed her for the last month, much more intense now.

"About a month ago, he got captured on an operation. We didn't know for weeks, we only knew that we weren't hearing anything from them. By the time we found out, tried to plan another raid to free them, it was too late. The orders had already been carried out."

Silence. Heavy, painful silence.

"What orders?" she had to ask.

"I'm sorry Rún............I knew you two were close, that's why I felt I had to tell you......."

Again, Rún could taste the hesitation.

"Yesterday......he was executed."

The mask shattered.

I know I did warn you it'd likely be a tragedy, though

That's soooo sad. No happy ending, now.

Did you ever think there would be?

dreamed........

Aww

Aw!
Good chapter!
Sad ending!

Thanks. And I know. There's more to come. But I might be working on another fic now

Cool!

Rún felt as if her world had stopped. The words were echoing ceaselessly in her head, and yet she couldn't grasp them. She couldn't admit it. How could this have happened?! Yes, she'd known the risks any member of the WA was taking by being one, known Sean was a high ranking member, and therefore known this would be the ultimate consequence if he were captured and failed to escape. But she'd never pictured it happening. Never admitted to herself the reality of how easily she could lose him.

"He's dead?" she asked at last.

"Yes," admitted Anya, grief in her tone. "I'm sorry, Rún."

Silence on the other end. Anya didn't say anything more, giving the woman a chance to recover from her shock.

"Look, I have to leave.......sorry....." she offered again."Goodbye, Rún."

"Goodbye, Anya," the response was automatic, her tone emotionless. She hung up.

Realisation was still crashing into her, wave after wave after wave. Each one shaking her to the core, giving her no time to recover from the last before the next one hit. She'd never see him again, never hear his voice, never touch him, never hold him or kiss him again.......she'd never get to tell him about their son, and their son would never in turn meet his father. She'd never get to apologise to him for how she'd used him. To apologise for not realising her true emotions until now, when it was too late, or for realising but hiding them anyway.

Her hands were trembling uncontrollably as she placed the phone down, not remembering to hide it again. There was one small detail that Anya hadn't mentioned. Perhaps she hadn't known, or perhaps she'd thought it tactical not to mention it. That didn't matter. Rún already knew. It was common knowledge amongst Eastsiders that the family which authorised execution orders were the Fiorr.

A black fury overcame her, burning out all shock, all grief, all hesitation. No longer was she trembling, as she knelt and pulled out her pistol from its hiding place. Never before had she as much as handled it, since first putting it into hiding. She didn't really know why she'd brought it with her, unless it was that Sean had previously encouraged her not to lose it. She could still remember, clearly as yesterday, the day decades ago when he'd placed the grim weapon in her hand, cold and heavy and unfamiliar. It had felt unwelcome then. Wrong. No longer.

She was barely thinking, on autopilot, as she changed into the clothing she wore to Westside, roughly pulled her hair down from its coiffure, and pulled the gun holster on. The slight weight on it was reassuring as it rubbed against her hip through the cloth. She couldn't let herself think. She felt that if she did, those crashing realisations would strike her again, stop her from moving, when she had to do this. Had to. Coldly, she got to her feet, exited the room, walked downstairs. She knew her husband would be in his office.

"Not now, can't you see that I am busy?" he shouted, not looking up. "Oh, it's you."

His tone clearly implied that she wasn't to be here. He still didn't look up from his desk. Not until she'd waited there for 10 minutes, and he came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to leave.

"What is it, woman?" he asked irritably, lifting his head. When his eyes reached her, his jaw dropped.

"What are you wearing?! Go, get changed, now! At once! You're lucky no one laid eyes on you, have you any idea what you look like?!"

Her eyes steeled.

"No. Tell me"

"Like....like a commoner. A Westside slut."

"How strange. I guess that's what I am."

His head jerked upwards at her confession. She could see she'd shocked him. At last. She drove the truth forwards.

"I'm a Westsider, really. A member of the Westside Alliance, no less. I joined when I was 15. And for the last 14 years, I've been sleeping with another member."

"No," he murmured. "No, you wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't dare? You don't know a thing about me. You don't even know that the boy you call your son, is not so. You've no idea how much I hate you."

No, he really didn't. He could never grasp the concept of how much he'd hurt her, how much he'd taken from her. But he was about to find out. Her hand slid to her hip, curling around the handle of the pistol, hidden by her jacket.

"I thought that was enough. It was, before. Before I realised. I....I loved him," her voice broke at the words. "I loved him, and I didn't even realise it! Not until you had him killed."

"He's dead then."

She sensed the cold tone, that small hint of pleasure beneath it, the hidden smile. He thought justice had been done. He really had no idea.

Her fingers tightened.

"Yes. He's dead," she admitted, coldness erasing the earlier emotion in her voice. It was he, now, who's control was failing, shaking in fear as he saw her pull out the gun, aimed dead at his heart.

"What...what are you doing?"

The only answer was the repeated sound of gunshots, a flash from the barrel and a dull thud as each bullet impacted. The sound of his body falling hid the softer sound of the pistol slipping from her fingers and hitting the floor. Then she fled.

cheerful

Thanks Matt. Great sarcasm